-Chapter 1-
The exceptionally bright midday sun shone across the open skies across Equestria falling on many items and objects except the dark streets of Manehattan covered in their industrial smog which held the undesirables of equestria. Street lights were used here 24/7, well those that weren’t broken, and the rest shone on all the things below the smog including the maroon coat of Ratchet, a small teenage stallion unicorn with a shock of deep blue hair that matched his eyes. His short legs moved at a quick pace to keep him from being pushed over by the rush of Manehattan traffic. This was the Manehattan underworld, a busy mess of sprawling streets and disheveled looking houses with many an “undesirable pony” around, walking to shops, meeting friends, selling drugs or doing one of the many other shifty deeds committed in Manehattan.Many ponies wandered the street aimlessly - often they walked just for the sake of it.
Ratchet turned off the main road towards a side street, a small gap between some houses, just big enough to fit a cart and a pony side-by-side and filled with drunken disorderlies - nonetheless Ratchet entered this even darker place.
After a minute of walking down the alleys and side streets of this residential district Ratchet could no-longer hear the hooves on tarmac besides his own, for he had travelled from the land of low lifes like himself to the land of the lower. This was a place where they had little need for roads to accommodate carts, as ponies here had lacked the wealth to afford them. Ratchet passed many unconscious ponies on the route that he took but as he came to a crossroad between four alleys he stopped, he didn’t want to spend much more time in this place so he could go left to take him (eventually) back to the main streets. He chose this route instantly, but as he was about to take the first step in this new direction, he heard a sob.
The cry came from behind him, he turned and cautiously stepped towards the pitiful sobbing. He looked behind a dumpster and found a pony who was more or less his age but female. The Forest green mare looked up at Ratchet, her vivid violet eyes shining in the dim light, her jet black and lavender tinted highlights rough and uncared for within her messy mane.
“Are you okay?” asked Ratchet. Goddamit of course she isn’t okay, what a way to start! Ratchet’s first words seemed right at the moment but looking back, he felt like a prick. “I’m fine,” she answered looking down at the floor “...Just, please go away.” Ratchet winced as her words hit him, he’d always been told to “go away” at school but usually he just ignored it.
“Er… you don’t look okay… if you don’t mind me saying.” Ratchet sighed inwardly and made a mental note to try harder next time, for, he needed her
“Of course I don’t look okay! YOU tend not to when you’ve ran away then found out your parents have moved so you can’t find them again!” She yelled getting to her hooves and putting her face close to his in an attempt to intimidate him.
“I’m sorry... I just wanted to help, and I just thought that I could help but, evidently not” Ratchet backed away slowly before turning to go.
“Wait, please..” As the yet again quiet and upset voice reached Ratchet’s ears he turned and looked at the pony, now on her knees with silent tears streaming down her face from her eyes staring into his soul..
Tears, the bodies way of washing out memories. The words came to his mind quicker than he could think otherwise. No, don’t start being careless now This is a great opportunity for me, I NEED TO CARE! Ratchet’s internal battle delayed his response but the sad eyes of the mare before him brought him to his senses and he walked closer to her and sat beside her.
“What’s wrong?” He asked looking at her with intent eyes, “Why are you crying”
“Because I ran away for a couple of days…” She let out a small cry as she continued to talk “And when I went back to my house… *sob* my parents were gone and so was everything I held dear…” She answered, tear spilling from her eyes as she looked at him awaiting response.
Aha, this is where I can help, I could be her… her… her… um… hero! that’s it, I could be her hero, I could save her from this place, I could take her home and then she’d be happy, I need her to be happy! But, what if my parents say no? By this single thought, Ratchet’s hopes were crushed under a pile of dismay.
“I could take you back to my place, if you want?” He said tentatively immediately regretting it though.
“You Would?” She asked, joy streaming into her voice and her eyes lit up. “I would be so grateful, there’s no way I would be able to thank you enough”
“Okay, er… What’s your name?” Ratchet asked smiling awkwardly.
“Sugar Sweet,” she replied, lifting her self up off the dirt ridden floor. “So, live anywhere nice?”
Standing outside Ratchet’s house a while later, Sugar Sweet’s eyes were staring at the house before her in awe.
“It’s not much Ratchet said,” pulling Sugar up onto the porch step to stop her washing away by the constant tidal wave of ponies. “But it just about fit’s us.”
“It’s better than where I used to live,” She answered, shame filling her quiet voice.
“Where did you used to live?” Asked Ratchet, curiosity intrigued him to inquire.
“Across from where you found me,” she said digging at the step in shame and looking at her hooves.
“I’m sure my parent’s won’t mind” He replied smiling at her reassuringly to boost her confidence.
As he slowly opened the front door never had he hoped so much in his life, never had he needed somepony this much. It all rested upon his parent’s judgement. Life slowed down and Ratchet felt his heart beating against his chest, he gulped and the door swung open to reveal his dad who was a short fat dark blue stallion without a mane reading a newspaper. He could also see a bright yellow mare with a lime mane looking round the kitchen door at him, a welcoming smile on her face. She evidently hasn’t seen Sugar yet… no, be nice brain, think like that and you’ll talk like that. Life restored to it’s normal speed in Ratchet’s mind.
“Hi Mum, hey there Dad…” Ratchet gulped and glanced over his shoulder at Sugar who seemed very curious about carts “ ...Er, I need to ask you somethin’.” He breathed a little heavier as he spoke “...I found somepony and er…” Sweat ran down his face “...She needs a place to stay so I offered her one and now she’s on our doorstep, please let her stay!” He blurted out sighing with relief.
“Well, let the young lady in then and we’ll see,” replied his mother smiling sweetly at him. Ratchet turned and beckoned for Sugar to come in.
“Hello, Ratchet’s parents, I’m Sugar Sweet, pleased to meet you…” Sugar mumbled as she stood next to Ratchet.
“Ooh, Ratchet, looks like you got yerself a keepa’ there,” Ratchet’s dad laughed at his own joke. Ratchet and Sugar blushed (although this was not very noticeable on Ratchet’s maroon coat) Ratchet’s mum shot him daggers. “Oh, I er, ‘av somet’ to do upstairs,” Ratchet’s father panicked and hurried up the creaking stairs.
“Now dear, If you’d like to take miss Sweet upstairs and show her to the bathroom then whilst she’s washing clear up the spare room for her to sleep in tonight, me and your father will discuss things later but she can stay tonight” Ratchet’s mother said looking at him with a smiling face.
“Okay mum, thanks,” Ratchet replied smiling and leading Sugar Sweet up the stairs.
Leading Sugar Sweet up the stairs was really awkward for Ratchet, he could feel Sugar Sweet’s eyes looking around, soaking up the house in which he lived. He didn’t know she was looking, he couldn’t see her looking but,he felt her looking.
As they reached the top of the stairs he pointed his hoof at the bleach white door directly in front of them and said
“There’s the Bathroom,” He pointed to his left at another door,” that there is the spare room,”
He then turned facing the way they’d just come. Immediately to the right of the banister as they faced down the stairs was another door, and to the right of that was another “There’s mine” he said pointing to the left one ”and this one is my parents room” he said waving at the door to the right with his hoof. “‘Now, d’ya wanna have a wash?” He asked looking at her, looking into her eyes, looking into her soul.
“Yeah sure but I don’t have a towel.” She said glancing at him a look of puzzlement and questioning on her face.
“Ah, well if you get started I’ll bring a spare one up to you.” He replied looking back at her. She nodded with a smile and proceeded to open the bathroom door and walk in, closing it behind her
Well done Ratchet, well bloody done - how the hell are you going to get the towel to her without opening the door? Ratchet cursed his bad luck and quick thinking - as everypony knows that walking in on another pony using the bathroom is pretty rude… sure nopony wears clothes but it is still very rude.
Ratchet waited and listened as he heard the shower turn on, and the water splashing gracefully into the tub - the bathtub creaked softly as Sugar climbed in. Ratchet turned around and trotted down the stairs, he sniffed curiously at the aromas surrounding his nose, finding the luxurious scent of apple pie in the air. Ratchet hummed his favourite tune as he trotted, it was actually released by VInyl Scratch a few years ago - but it was still his favourite. He walked into the kitchen and Ratchet’s left was a large oak dining table to his right was the cooking area. Ratchet walked through without taking a second look at anything, straight through to the conservatory which was a medium sized room with large glass windows and a cheap plastic roof. A small wooden table sat before him and upon it was a pile of towels. He plucked a cream coloured one out of the towels and returned to the bathroom where he re-met his dilemma. What do I do now? I don’t know, just open the door slightly and drop it in. But she might get the wrong idea. No she won’t. Ratchet’s internal battle went on like this for ages until he heard the shower turn off and the gentle creaking of Sugar getting out of the bathtub. Ratchet knocked on the door and waited for the answer.
“Come in.” Came the muffled reply from Sugar, Ratchet turned the handle opened the door slightly. Ratchet concentrated his inner energy and an aura of scarlet red appeared around the towel and it gentle drifted around the door and into the room. Ratchet rarely used his magic, for he had a rare disorder that gave him occasional discharges of pure uncontrollable magic. They melted metal and wrecked flesh, and any actions of magic gave him the risk of burning down the house in which he stood. Ratchet shut the door and waited for Sugar Sweet to finish drying herself before showing her to her room. Which he hadn’t made yet! He rushed around the house in a frenzy, searching for the items he needed to make the room “suitable” for a pony to inhabit.
After Ratchet had accumulated the required items like: a quilt, a pillow case, mattress cover etc. Ratchet placed them in the appropriate places and stood back in the doorway to admire his handy work.
“So, you like Vinyl Scratch?” Ratchet wheeled around to see Sugar looking at him smirking smugly at him, a twinkle in her eyes and a gleam to her coat, she stood there watching him, it unnerved him.
“Er, yeah ya know, she’s good.” Ratchet replied scratching the back of his neck with his hoof. “Anyway, how do you know? How long have you been stood there?” Ratchet questioned looking up at her.
“Oh, well I’ve been stood here since you started pretty much and you were humming one of her songs. Ahh, what’s it called? Er… Ooh, that’s it Bass Cannon. You were humming Bass Cannon” She smiled at him looking up and down his body, Ratchet had a sudden feeling of self consciousness and knew she was judging him: his short legs, small body, spanner cutie mark, messy hair, his deep blue eyes, his maroon coat. All of it was being judged and he didn’t like it. ”So, is this my room then?” She asked looking around at her surroundings: the peeling wall paper, the broken furniture everything was broken.
“Yes, dinner should be ready soon,” Ratchet replied matter of factly. They trotted down the stairs together just in time for Ratchet’s mother to notify them of dinner.
When the Family and Sugar had eaten their dinner, Ratchet’s parents decided to talk to the two younger ponies
“Now, about Miss Sweet’s accommodation,” The tension around the table was unbearable for the two teenage ponies. “ I think it’s safe to say that we’re not the most financially amazing families… So, I regret to say that… Sugar, I think we need to put you in an orphanage.” She looked at Sugar with a sincere face. Sugar’s hopeful face dropped and a single tear rolled down her forest green cheek.
“Okay… Thank you for this night.” She replied staring at the tabletop rubbing her hoof along the smooth, oak surface. More tears ran down her fur like tidal waves running through Everfree. leaving a silky sheen smeared down her muzzle, dripping onto the oaken table with a splatter. The family glanced at each other, their hearts sunken, to the deepest pits of their stomachs.
“Um, Sugar… If it helps, you can visit as much as you want.” Ratchet’s mother said reaching across the brown, coffee stained, grubby table and placing a hoof on Sugar’s. Sugar looked up; sobbed and mumbled a thanks before looking down and dropping her liquid bombs on the table.
“But, you can stay tonight, we know an orphanage that’s close and has friendly staff that’ll let you out daily.” Ratchet interjected smiling at the mare sat before his deep blue eyes. she looked at him, her violet eyes shining in the light of the oil lamp on the table, flickering shadows across the grey, peeling walls. Her cheeks shining, diamonds in the dim light. She mumbled a thank you before looking up from the table she’s studied for the past few minutes.
“I’m tired.” She stated, looking at the family each in turn.
“Ratchet dear, take Sugar Sweet up to her room then go to bed.” Ratchet’s mother commanded, looking sternly at her son with a Don’t argue kind of face. Ratchet turned to Sugar Sweet, she nodded at him. Ratchet turned scraping his chair along the already tarnished, wooden flooring. Sugar did the same. Ratchet led Sugar through the living room, past the fireplace with the cheaply framed photo’s depicting Ratchet’s “happy” childhood. ”Lies, that’s what photo’s are: fake, artificial, set-up, any way you looked at it, photo’s are fake.” Ratchet thought glancing at the photo’s, Sugar followed his gaze and saw the photographs hung on the wall.
This placed looked like a palace to her, although to the higher-classes of Canterlot or Manehattan, even Ponyville; this was a shit-hole plain and simple, they’d hate to live in a place like this. But to a low-life like her from the stomach of the city, the place where the rest of Manehattan threw it’s refuse after chewing it up and waiting for it to dissolve before throwing some more in there; It looked like heaven…
The two ponies reached the top of the brown carpeted stairs, Sugar stopped
“Er, Ratchet, thanks for all you’ve done for me when we’ve only just met.” She said looking into his eyes. She’s judging me! Oh no, I hate being judged! Ratchet’s self consciousness rose out of the darkness, a curse, a hex that haunted him. He ran a hoof through his deep blue mane greasy? No. He looked down his coat Grubby? No. He consciously stopped every movement, consciously choosing when to blink, how to breathe. He took control over the things you usually don’t need to, a self defence mechanism some ponies say. Ratchet just knew, that’s what he did.
Ratchet stopped his checking and looked back at Sugar. Her head was cocked to one side with a raised eyebrow.
“Why did you just check every part of yourself?” she asked, curiosity seeping into her voice. Great, she’s judged me and now for the sentence: criticism.
“Felt a little cold, wondered if I’d gotten damp or somethin’.” Ratchet replied sub-consciously rubbing the back of his neck.
“Okay,” she chirped smiling at him before turning and walking into her temporary room. Ratchet turned as tiredness dropped on him like an anvil: solid and unforgiving. Ratchet trotted into his room and collapsed onto his bed. Looking up at his ceiling with a rough grin on his face, he smiled sadly. ”Hell of a day.” He quietly thought to himself, letting faint sleep overcome him.
5 years later, Ratchet and Sugar were wandering under the dark shroud of Manehattan’s Downzone; “lit up like a christmas tree” some ponies described it as, referring to the many street lights that used to light it. ”Some shitty christmas tree’s they must’ve seen.”
Since the time Ratchet had met Sugar Manehattan had changed, for better and worse. It was better if you were one of the rich high-class ponies who could afford to buy an apartment above the smog clouds; which had only become thicker, more tainted and more of an eyesore.. But it was a lot worse if you lived in the downzone. A few new key buildings had been built, the main one being the Spire Cortex. It was the focal point for each and every Spire within the city, and connected them all into one massive grid supporting the Upper Society.
From up there came light from a new “scientific discovery” called Lightning Oil. Lightning Oil glows a ghastly white, but due to the pipes being at the same level as the smog it shone down on the Downzone as more of a purple colour, sticking the Downzone in a constant twilight effect. This wouldn’t have been an issue, but most of the old lampposts had been removed. Thus nicknaming the smoggy area above the downzone the “Twilight Zone”.
Ratchet and Sugar trotted into an off-license store and purchased a can of lager each, walked back around the corner and sat down on a small bench. Upon closer inspection it appeared to be stained with alcohol, blood and other bodily fluids Ratchet didn’t want to think about. There they opened their cans and watched the world go by.
“Shit,” Ratchet exclaimed, holding out his right hoof and looking up into the Twilight Zone. “It’s starting to rain.” Ratchet and Sugar stood up and covered their lager from the murky, acidic rain tainted by the Twilight Zone. They quickly started to trot towards Ratchet’s house. The rain picked up to a torrential downpour as they went.
“Ratchet, let’s take cover underneath that station platform over there.” Sugar suggested pointing to a concrete platform suspended above the ground by thick, decaying pillars.
Another change to Manehattan was the new trains around the place, unlike the many intercity trains, these bullet shaped inner trains were smaller and ran on Lightning Oil but were also a lot faster. These trains also meant a decrease in ponies and carriages walking the streets
“So, Ratchet, how do you feel about the new trains?” Sugar asked glancing up as a bullet train speed overhead sprinkling dust and crumbled concrete on the two.
“Meh, they’re alright, I suppose. I mean, they got rid of the traffic, but they just make the place a lot louder.” Ratchet replied sipping at his lager. Perching on the kerb below the platform.
“Yeah, I suppose.” Sugar said following suit and sitting on the cold, hard, stone.
After an hour of the downpour the rain didn’t look like it would ease off, and so the two ponies decided to try and get back to Ratchet’s place before it got worse.
The rain eased off a little as they galloped through the downpour and so the two ponies slowed their pace along the rain beaten streets.
As they got to around three blocks away an enormous bang sounded, and a fireball shot out of relatively high up apartment window from across the street. Ratchet and Sugar turned and looked in horror as flames spat out of the windows. The rain eased up a little and a stallion calmly walked out of the building of which the fire was in. His dark grey coat was clean and his azure hair hung low across his face; and covering his face was a bandana type thing with a gas mask on the front, it made the stallion look like a Trottingham rebel. ”Why’s he dressed like that? We’re in Manehattan, not Trottingham -- what an oaf.” Ratchet mused.
The two ponies carried on their walk home as silence haunted them, only broken by the occasional comment by one of the two that “I hope nobody was hurt” and words to that effect.
The two ponies reached the steps of Ratchet’s house and climbed the grey, stone slab steps up to the front door. before pushing the creaking wood aside.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re both okay!” exclaimed the bright yellow and lime ‘thing’ that leaped at them both bringing them into a tight, back-breaking, hug.
“Why?” The two youngsters said exchanging looks.
“Ain't yer heard?” Ratchet’s father asked. “There was a fire in the Downzone, then around three blocks away from there, a train crash!” He continued putting on a serious tone. “They say that everyone on board was killed and that this stallion named… er… Twisted Morals? I think it was… was involved as it was his apartment that was on fire!” He finished, looking at the pair, nodding gravely
“Ol’ Twist? Can’t be him.” Ratchet replied, a look of disbelief consumed his face.
“Who’s ‘he’?” Sugar asked looking at Ratchet and his father in turn.
“Twisted Morals is a nutter, he’s off his rocker, he’s bloody mental!” Ratchet’s father replied emphasising his words with vivid hoof gestures.
“Twist is a complete nutcase. He lives in Spire 52; the one that was on fire, and he’s had a few mental breakdowns in the past. But one time when I was younger he walked up to me, gave me ten bits and told me not to make mistakes... before stumbling off into the crowds.” Ratchet countered glancing at his father’s facial expression.
“He’s well known in the Downzone, dear.” Ratchet’s mother continued smiling reassuringly at the teenage mare.
“Well, he wasn’t known in the Elderlane.” Sugar replied, referring to the rat infested lower city from whence she came.
“Anyway, if you two want to go upstairs, dinner will be ready in around half an hour.” Ratchet’s mum stated ushering them away up the stairs.
“Well, I best be going now,” Sugar declared after dinner, “Else the orphanage will be wondering where, I am…” She finished.
“As if they didn’t know by now.” Ratchet’s mother interjected smiling sweetly at her.
“Yeah they should, but remember; I’ve got a history of running away,” Sugar reminded them smiling in a rogue-ish manner.
Ratchet got up and accompanied her the door, opening it for her. He smiled at her, she smiled back.
“See ya later.” She said before galloping into the on-going, persistent rain.
The next day, the rain had subsided and Ratchet met Sugar Sweet in the foyer of her orphanage.
“Hey Ratchet!” Sugar exclaimed walking out of her room and trotting over to him grinning from ear to ear.
"Hey Sugar. How are you?" Ratchet replied smiling at the young mare.
"I'm good, you?" She answered looking at him.
"I'm fine." Ratchet turned to go, Sugar followed him, beaming from ear to ear, still. Her eyes shone like marbles in a midday murk as they stepped onto the twilight streets.
“So, where we off to today?” Sugar asked. She smiled a toothy smile at Ratchet, he returned it.
“I thought we could walk around, possibly get a drink if we get thirsty.” Ratchet considered “Ya know, just walkin’ an’ talkin’ I suppose.” He finished, looking at her. ”She doesn’t know that tomorrow I start my training. I should tell her, but when? Now.” “ Er, Sugar, I need to tell you something… Tomorrow I start my two week training.” He said looking at her, praying that she doesn’t get angry.
“Okay." She said turning her head looking away from Ratchet, clearly hurt at the fact that she wouldn't see him for a week, and looked across the road to where a single, dead leaf lay, in loved and unwanted. " I used to feel like this leaf..." She stated, staring deeply into it's golden brown colour and crinkled texture. Ratchet stared blankly at the side of her head, with b R4 ated breath. "Cut off from my lifeline, a dying entity, waiting to rot." She finished, a single transparent tear rolled down her muzzle, leaving a silky sheen in its wake, a purple reflection of the twilight.
"I er, don't get it." Ratchet replied, his blank look unbroken. Sugar sniffed, attempted a smile before asking:
"What don't you get?"
"The lifeline bit," Ratchet replied, cocking his head to the left slightly.
"The leaf was cut from it's lifeline, that being the tree. I was cut off from my parents, to a young girl, they're her lifeline, her solitude, her fortress." She answered, staring into Ratchet's deep blue eyes.
A while later and Sugar and Ratchet were stood on Ratchet's doorstep.
"So, how long will you be gone again?" She asked, scratching her hoof on the stone slabs subconsciously.
"Around two weeks." Was the answer, Ratchet stepped towards Sugar, their eyes met, the world around them stopped. "You've been the best friend I could have ever hoped for." He said, before pulling her into a hug.
"Just, just pass, for me." Sugar said looking up into his eyes.
Sugar walked home alone, her world was empty, no one was there for her. She could go and visit his parents, but that wasn't the same; they didn't want to go out and mock societal flaws, nor sit and drink alcohol. Sugar walked into an off license; and out again with two bottles of vodka and a bottle of whisky. Her monthly allowance, gone.
She sat down on the kirb and flicked the cap of one of the bottles, she cared not for which. As she threw her head back, her lips sealed to the neck of the bottle, a wave of whisky, splashed into her mouth, it's strong taste dominating her mouth and senses. She followed suit with some vodka. Tipping it down her throat like a greedy beggar craving for water, it felt like ice was being poured down her throat. Her vision blurred and soon the mass of neon advertising attached to buildings was just one big mess of shapes and colours, one sign indiscernible from the next.
Soon, there was three empty bottles and a passed out pony on the side of the road, nopony else cared for her. T’was normal in the great shithole of lower Manehattan.
"Ah, fuck!" Were Sugar's first words upon her reawakening. She brought both her forehooves up to her face and stared at the grimy mess of fur that they'd become from one night on the streets of Manehattan. All three of them looked like they hadn't been clea... ”Wait, three?” Sugar's mind was a haze, the memories of the night before brought back to her by the distinct clinking of three bottles as she rolled onto her hooves.
Dragging herself up, she stumbled, regaining her stability, she placed one hoof in front of the other. She put pressure on the hoof. She lifted her other hoof. She fell, hitting her head on the hard floor and smashing a bottle with her hoof.
"Ah! My head..." She rubbed her head, wincing as she ran her hoof through her rough fur.
After staggering through a few of the many streets of Manehattan’s Downzone, Sugar just wanted to get home, back to the orphanage, back to her solitude from society.
Her hungover state left her head reeling in pain. The constant hustle and bustle of everyday Downzone activity meant that Sugar could guarantee that at least five of the other ponies on the street were in a similar state to her.
Sugar stumbled up the stone steps and fell through the thick oaken door; leaving a grimy print where her body had made contact. She meandered across the main lobby and soon found herself in her room, where she commenced to step into the shower and take a long, relaxing, shower.
